Heart of Barbs
by Iris Musicia
Summary: AU-ish: Kitty's away at college now, partying every night and meeting hot guys like the new German Kurt Wagner. Initially going by the name "Chessa", Kitty finds romance with Kurt, but they're both keeping secrets. Kurtty.
1. Nightclubs and Hot Guys

**Disclaimer: I'd like to do something cute for the disclaimer, but I ran out of ideas . .**

**A/N: I'd **_**like**_** to say this gets better in later chapters, but I really don't know. **

**Heart of Barbs**

Chessa's favorite song blared from the DJ table. She wove her way through the crowd of thrashing bodies with her drink carefully balanced, head bobbing to the heavy beat. Chessa found a chair and sat down, taking a moment to down her shot, then leap back into the heat of the dancers in the nightclub. She was making a decent size circle around her with her dance moves, and attracting a lot of the guys' attentions, when appreciative whoops came from the other side of the dance floor.

Chessa bobbed over where a huge circle had cleared around a guy—an amazing dancer. He had all the best moves, flexibility to match, and a sexy body. Chessa found herself wolf-whistling as he backflipped, his shirt coming up and revealing a radial tattoo in the small of his back. She smiled suggestively at him as he straightened, his dark hair swinging, framing his sharp features. He smirked back at her as a curvy Italian woman with a pronounced boob job took his arm and dragged him to get a drink.

_Probably to grease him up so she can go after him in the alley_. Chessa thought snidely, going for another shot of whiskey. She slid onto the bar stool, slapped the counter, and the bartender sent her drink whizzing down the counter. She caught it, downed it, and slapped the empty glass back down on the counter, signaling for another. She knocked back her second shot as the sexy guy fell onto the stool next to her. He had a sloppy casualness about him, the long dark hair that looked indigo in the dim light, untucked shirt that didn't do him justice, and the confidence he radiated.

Chessa noted he had ditched Snooki. She looked sideways at him through her wavy brunette hair. He winked at her, swallowing the shot of rum that had materialized in front of him. As he turned to slip back into the crowd, his hand brushed her arm. Chessa glowed and followed him through the mob, other girls and even hookers looking at her with pronounced loathing.

The guy found them a remote table, out of the line of sight of jealous or possibly enraged gals. He leaned back in his chair, a lock of hair falling over one of his eyes.

"Where y' from?" Chessa asked casually.

"Around." The guy had a _really_ thick accent.

"I used to live in the Bronx, then I moved ou' here," Chessa said. "Chessa Pryde, by the way."

"Kurt Wagner, freshly imported from Bavaria," Kurt smirked across the table at Chessa.

"Air mail?" she smiled.

He leaned over the table, smirking his trademark smirk, "Stowavay."

_He's bad_, Chessa thought, her mental self tripping over herself for this hot guy.

"You seem fun. Call me sometime." Kurt pushed a scrap of paper across the table. His number was scrawled on it in slanting, spidery handwriting.

"Count on it," Chessa beamed as Kurt stood and walked away.

_Count on it? Count on it? Kit, you gotta say something cooler than that. There's a reason you like to be called Chessa over Kitty, and it's not to attract hot guys and get their numbers just to say "count on it!" You're such a nerd._ Chessa slapped herself mentally, shoving the paper into her pocket to go back onto the dance floor, the music and lights blaring in her mind.

*HEART OF BARBS*

Chessa groaned into her pillow as the light hit her eyes. Why did the sun have to rise at six? She rolled over, the embroidery on her sweat-soaked shirt making her stomach itch. She didn't have a hangover, thank God, but she was _so_ tired.

Chessa Pryde, also known as Kitty Pryde, opened her eyes and tried to glare murderously at the sun coming through the fire escape outside her apartment, but only succeeded in giving herself a headache and making her eyes burn. She staggered up and stumbled through her apartment to her bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror.

Hair messed up, heavy eye makeup all over her face, bleary-eyed, and still in her clubbing outfit, Kitty lifted a brush and tackled the rats' nest that was her hair, combing most of the hairspray out before stripping and taking a long, warm shower.

After she had dried off and twisted her hair up into a turban, she changed into a tight tee that read "Kiss me I'm not Irish but I'm hot" and a pair of faded straight leg Levis. Kitty grabbed her outfit off the floor of the bathroom, a scrap of paper falling out of the pocket. Kitty picked it up and read the number, remembering Kurt from last night.

"I should call him, shouldn't I? Or should I wait for him to call me?" she wondered aloud, chucking her dirty clothes in her closet and walking over to the phone. She glanced at the clock first, and upon realizing it was six thirty in the morning, hurriedly put the phone down and grabbed the tape. She taped the number to her forehead so she wouldn't forget it. It was more of a joke on Kitty by Kitty, but she didn't care.

Kitty waited four agonizing hours before dialing Kurt's number with a trembling finger. Why did this one guy make her so goddamn nervous?

Kurt answered on the second ring.

"Hey."

"Hi, Kurt? This is Ki—Chessa Pryde, from the nightclub last night?" Kitty made it sound like a question and grimaced at herself.

"Uh, vich nightclub? I vent to a lot, and a lot of girls have my number . . ." Kurt said.

"Oh! I'm sorry . . . I guess I'll go . . ."

"No! Just joking! I only gave my number to you. You vere the only girl who vasn't a complete stereotype in zat club." Kurt said it so seriously, Kitty almost flinched.

"Should I be flattered?" she asked, half joking. "Well, anyways, I was going to call earlier, but I didn't want to wake you up or anything."

"If I vere you, I'd take zat as a compliment. How early is "earlier?" Kurt asked.

"Six thirty-ish," Kitty said quietly.

"Zat's your early?" Kurt laughed loudly. "You've got to be joking, Chessa."

"What, that's lunchtime for you?" Kitty asked, somewhat waspishly.

"No, I get up at five to do yoga."

"Hm."

"Ja, so . . . vat did you call for?"

"Oh, um, nothing really, I guess . . . I just kinda wanted to see if I wasn't dreaming and you hadn't given me the Rejection Hotline . . ." Kitty said uncomfortably.

"_You_ have been given ze Rejection Hotline?" Kurt laughed. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you!"

One thing about Kurt Kitty gained from this conversation was that he was almost brutally honest.

"Oh." Kitty squeaked.

"Do you vant to meet at ze café near ze bookstore? Vat street vas it . . . Heart Street and Barb Spear Avenue? Noon good to you?"

"Yeah, totally." Kitty twirled her hair around her finger.

"See you then. _Tschüs_." Kurt hung up, leaving Kitty wondering what the last word meant. She shook her head and put the phone back in the cradle.

_I have two hours to sort out an outfit and my hair and makeup. Better get to work._ _It's worth it: hot guy Kurt over a book and doing nothing any day._

**So finally and update on time! And it's only 1 am! Yayz! Reviews much appreciated, FYI. :)**


	2. Romantic Dinners and Confessions

**Just updating all my old stories . . . seeing if I can finish a few.**

At noon, Kitty was waiting nervously at the café, hoping Kurt hadn't blown her off. It was pushing 12:30 when Kurt walked up to her.

"Mind if I sit here?" He asked playfully. Kitty smirked.

"Not at all."

"I see you've been here for a vhile." Kurt said, gesturing to the half-empty cup of cold coffee sitting on the table.

"Yeah . . . well, no, not really, I guess, just . . . half an hour. I don't mind, I've got a good book. And a really good way to look desperate and nerdy at the same time." Kitty babbled, shutting herself up before she could do more damage. Fortunately, though, Kurt didn't seem to mind. He smirked at her.

"You don't seem ze nerdy type to me. More . . . intelligent and independent." He complimented her. Just then a waiter walked by, and Kurt flagged him down. "'_Schuldigen sie,_ could I get a cup of coffee?"

"How would you like that?" the waiter asked, pulling out his notepad and pencil.

"Black, _bitte_." Kurt said. The waiter nodded and walked off.

"Black?" Kitty asked, grimacing slightly?

"Oh, _ja_. I can't stand all zis "triple mochacchino double turbo shot viz zree creams and six sugars and espresso" stuff. As my fazzer alvays said, a real man takes his coffee black." Kurt smiled again.

"Seeing as I'm not a man, I like my coffee with cream." Kitty said, taking a sip of her coffee, causing Kurt to grimace.

"Cold?" He asked. Kitty, upon realizing her mistake choked down her sip and wiped her mouth, setting the cup down and pushing it away.

"No, not normally, but you're making me stupid." Kitty said, mentally slapping herself for blabber. Kurt laughed.

"Black coffee, sir." The waiter reappeared and set Kurt's coffee down in front of him, then going off to another table.

"See, _zis_ is coffee, Chessa." Kurt said.

"Don't call me Chessa. Call me Kitty." Kitty said.

"Vy?" Kurt took a sip of his coffee.

"I just use that name meeting someone new . . . identity protection, yadda yadda. My real name's Katherine, but I go by Kitty." She said, thumbing nervously through her book.

"Hm." Kurt nodded. He glanced at his watch. "I hate to make you feel bad or seem like I'm ducking out on you, but I have to go, I've got a class in half an hour. It voz really nice talking to you again, Keety—I genuinely mean zat. Call me again and ve'll make anozzer date." Kurt took a drink from his coffee mug, put five dollars down on the table and stood, brushing his hand over Kitty's forearm as he passed. Shivers ran up and down Kitty's spine as she picked up her book and walked back to the bus stop.

XXX

Back at her apartment, Kitty was supposed to be studying for a Chem 101 test in two days, but was worrying about Kurt. He'd left right after she'd told him about the name thing. Maybe he didn't like her name. He totally blew her off. But he'd said he genuinely meant it and he wanted to go on another date, so did that mean he really _did _have a class in half an hour? And what had he meant by the hand-brushing-arm thing? Did he _like_ like her? She was so confused, and knew she was overanalyzing it, but couldn't help it. She wanted to call him and ask him what he'd meant and stuff, but if he wasn't lying, and it seemed like he wasn't, she couldn't call him because he'd be in class.

Grumbling at her stupidity, Kitty forced herself to calm down and start studying, trying to force Kurt out of her mind. Poring through pages of Chemistry material, Kitty didn't find any interest in the text on the pages. She knew it was slightly creepy that she was obsessing over him like a little high school girl with her first crush.

_Oh, geez, _she thought, _I'm never going to pass this test._

XXX

Two months later, (Kitty did, in fact, pass the Chem test) Kitty was having dinner with Kurt at a local restaurant as a celebration as their two-month anniversary.

"This is slightly ridiculous, you know," Kitty said with a smile as she looked over her glass of water at Kurt, who gave a playful shrug.

"But it's fun, _ja_?" Kurt asked. "Ready to go?"

"Sure." Kitty replied, and as the waiter came by, she asked for the check.

"I'll pay." Kurt said, waving down Kitty's protests. Kitty smiled bashfully. "Why don't we walk and talk afterwards?"

"Okay then . . ." Kitty said somewhat nervously.

"It's okay, I'm not going to do anyzing to you. We've known each ozzer for two monz. Do you not trust me?" Kurt asked, putting his water down to look closely at Kitty.

"No, no, it's not that. I trust you, Kurt, I'm just afraid that you're going to . . . break up with me." Kitty said, developing a sudden interest in her hands, clasped in her lap. Kurt waited a few moments, looking at Kitty somewhat incredulously, then began to laugh.

"What? What? Don't laugh at me!" Kitty cried, getting flustered. Kurt coughed and stopped laughing, but sniggered a moment before replying.

"I'm sorry, Keety, it's just zat I can't believe you jumped to zat conclusion. I'm crazy about you, I'd never break up viz you." Kurt said, genuinely honest, causing Kitty's heart to leap and her cheeks to redden.

"Really?" She asked shyly. Kurt nodded enthusiastically. Just then the waiter came back with the check. Kurt left the tip on the table and helped Kitty out of her chair, escorting her to the door. Kitty giggled at his romanticism.

They ended up walking along the sidewalk just outside the park, still in escort position, watching the dregs of the sunset fade, talking about things.

"Seems like you've got something to say, Kurt." Kitty observed.

"I don't know . . . I've been zinking about zis for a very, very long time. Promise you von't hate me or anyzing. Promise." Kurt said. Kitty wasn't looking at his face, so she didn't see the solemn look in his eyes, so she leaned into him playfully.

"Just spit it out, it's okay," she said, then looked up, the smile freezing on her face at the grim look in her boyfriend's eyes.

He drew a very deep breath and blinked hard. "I'm a mutant."


End file.
